


Tunnel Vision

by cherie_morte



Series: trials-and-tentacles!Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blind Character, Blindness, M/M, Permanent Injury, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 09:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14162097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherie_morte/pseuds/cherie_morte
Summary: Sam accidentally discovers that he can use his tentacles to swap his vision with Dean's. Dean has some ideas about how to use this power for good.





	Tunnel Vision

**Author's Note:**

> Timestamp to my 2013 fic [Hydra](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14138889). This is set after the main story and will make absolutely no sense out of context.

It starts, like most things tend to these days, with a tentacle sticking itself somewhere on Dean that it doesn’t belong.

Dean knows that runaway tentacles are not an issue the average Joe has to deal with, but it’s become pretty standard between him and Sam, so rules for when and where he can be poked by Sam’s extra limbs were needed. Unfortunately, they tend to get ignored. Neither of them ever had much of a sense of personal space when it comes to one another, and the tentacles are no different.

That’s not really Sam’s fault, so it’s hard to enforce the rules. Sam gets distracted and the little guys wander off. Dean is a delicious piece of ass, so it’s not surprising that every weirdo appendage his brother’s got wants a slice.

Anyway, the point is: Dean is just trying to brush his teeth, and before he knows it, there’s a nice weight and two rows of suckers attempting to hoover the back of his neck. He’s usually pretty pro-hoovering, and especially pro-Sam-hoovering-him, so the issue is more that it catches him off guard than anything.

He spits the toothpaste in his mouth out in the sink and hears Sam curse a foot over to his left.

“You spit all over my hand, dude!” Sam bitches.

“Not my fault,” he mutters. “I was distracted. By _your_ horndog limbs. Besides, it’s not like I could see you there.”

Dean lifts his head and grins, assuming Sam will see it in the mirror in front of them, and then he leans back into the touch.

“What’s it doing, anyway?” he asks. “Feels nice.”

He hears Sam spit out his own toothpaste and turn off the sink, and then he says, “I dunno. I think it’s trying to tell me something.”

“If it’s about my ass, you and all your extra dicks can forget it. I’m still sore from yesterday.”

“As if you’d actually let that stop you,” says Sam.

Dean shrugs; he’s got a point. Dean’s ass is up for anything.

“Hold on, stand still.” Dean smiles, because he can _hear_ the scrunched up look on Sam’s face just from the curious tone in his brother’s voice. “Open up to me.”

“I usually do,” Dean replies with a smirk.

His brother makes an exasperated sound. “I didn’t mean like that. And I didn’t mean your mouth, either, so shut up. I’m being serious. Relax and let me in.”

Dean does as his brother asks. These days, there ain’t a lot of cause to shut Sam out. Not that he’s about to say something like that out loud.

The tentacle that had been on the back of his neck before reattaches itself, and Dean feels that nice, gentle sensation from the suckers again. He tries to loosen his muscles and sink into it, and a tingly feeling begins to build, starting at the back of his neck and spreading until…

He gasps, and he feels Sam begin to pull away, but Dean immediately reaches out and holds the tentacle against him. “Don’t you dare let go.”

“What the hell is that?” Sam asks.

Sam holds his hands up in front of his face. Dean knows he’s doing that, because he can _see_ it. He can see Sam’s giant hands as if they’re right in front of his eyes.

Dean turns toward his brother, which doesn’t change anything until he reaches up to grab Sam’s face and aim it at himself. That confirms his suspicion. As soon as Sam moves, Dean’s vision does, too. Sam’s hands fall out of focus, and instead Dean can see his own face, a few inches down, tilted up the way he had to so he could look into his brother’s eyes, back when that was a thing he could do.

“Oh, fuck!” he says. “You never told me about the freaky eyes!”

Dean hasn’t changed much since the last time he saw himself, but this is definitely new. He’s seen it before, just one time. The oracle they’d gone to during the trials had eyes just like this. White all the way through, except a thin black outline where his iris used to be and his pupil in the middle.

“You can see your eyes?” Sam asks quietly. “I’m sorry, Dean. I thought it would be better if you didn’t know.”

Sam sounds pretty low about it, so Dean decides that instead of getting upset about the secret, he’ll just embrace it. “They’re kind of cool, right? I look like a demon. You remember demons, Sam? Fun times.”

“I miss green,” Sam admits, tone droopy.

“Yeah, well I miss everything and you don’t hear me complaining.” Dean gives Sam a reassuring smile and rises to his tiptoes. He manages to plant a kiss right on Sam’s mouth on his first try. Then he gives his brother a light slap on the cheek to try and shake loose the sourpuss pout Sam puts on (Dean can’t usually see it these days, but he knows it better than his own face) every single damn time the subject of Dean’s sight comes up. “Hey. Look at the mirror again, Sammy. Let me see you.”

Dean’s heart starts beating a little faster just at the thought of it. It’s been almost a year since Sam closed the Gates of Hell and Dean’s sight was lost to the third trial, and, sure, he’s gone longer without seeing his brother. He’s gone longer without Sam entirely, thinking Sam was lost to law school or Hell or worse. This past year he’s had Sam in a way he really wasn’t supposed to get.

So it hasn’t been the worst year of his life by a long shot. But Dean thought he’d never see his little brother again.

Sam does as he’s told and even leans in closer to the mirror when Dean directs him to do that. His eyes move over his own face slowly enough that Dean can take in everything from his shorter hair to his light stubble to, he laughs, three grey hairs at Sam’s temples.

“Apparently,” Dean says, “my eyes weren’t the only thing you didn’t tell me about.”

Sam reaches up to feel at his hairline and there’s the scowl Dean missed so much. “It’s not like I was _hiding_ them from you! I just didn’t see the need to make an announcement.”

“It’s okay, man. Not everyone can look as good at your age as I did.” Dean pats him on the shoulder. “You’re still pretty hot for a geezer.”

Sam rolls his eyes, which makes Dean feel queasy as he adjusts to seeing the shift without anticipating it. Once Sam’s eyes are set forward on the mirror again, Dean reaches out to press his fingers against the reflection where his brother’s face is staring back at him.

“Fuck, look at you,” he says. “Can you believe we didn’t figure this out sooner? All we have to do is find a way to hide your tentacle touching me when we’re out in public, and I can see—”

Sam makes the face he used to do when Dean made him take NyQuil for his colds. Like he’s swallowing a whole bottle of poison. “It’s not gonna be that easy, Dean.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean asks. He points to the mirror and watches himself gesticulate in his brother’s periphery. “I can see again. I can figure out how to account for it being from your point of view. Not like we’re ever all that far apart.”

“I can’t see anything,” Sam says, and suddenly Dean realizes why Sam’s been so muted about this despite his spending the last year wracked with guilt, trying every desperate cure for Dean’s blindness. Dean would have expected him to be even more excited about this than he is, but of course there’s a ‘but.’ They’re still Winchesters, after all.

“Don’t tell me,” Dean says.

He watches Sam’s bottom lip shake as Sam tries to hold it together, and then Sam shuts his eyes, and Dean’s vision goes black.

“I’m seeing through your eyes,” Sam tells him. He takes a deep breath and then adds, “All I can see is what I did to you.”

“Here we go,” Dean mutters.

“I’m glad…I’m glad we found a way for you to see sometimes.” Sam opens his eyes again but looks away from the mirror, turning his back to Dean entirely. “If I had just found another way you wouldn’t need me holding your neck to see.”

“Found another way to close the gates of Hell _forever_?” Dean asks, huffing a laugh. “Because there’s so many of those lying around.”

“Well, if I hadn’t—”

“Don’t you dare even say it,” Dean says, reaching where he thinks his brother’s shoulder will be, judging from what he sees through Sam’s eyes. He yanks hard, making Sam turn to face him. “If you hadn’t wanted me? If you hadn’t fucked me that first time? Sam, what we have now is the best thing I’ve ever had. Way better than vision.”

Sam shakes his head and it’s Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. “Come on, it’s not like this is news to you. You’ve known I was blind since it happened. Don’t be a big crybaby about it now. I’m getting all kinds of ideas about what we can do with this new power of yours, and you’re gonna have to be in a good enough mood to get it up for me to enjoy them.”

“It’s one thing to know because you told me and another thing to see it for myself.” Sam licks his lips. “I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“That’s nice, Sam. Now think really hard. Do we have any bedrooms in this bunker with mirrors on the ceilings?”

Despite himself, Sam laughs. “Seriously. You find out you can have vision again and you’re already planning how to work it into our sex life?”

“This from the dude who has discovered fifty-seven new ways to stuff me full of tentacles.”

Sam considers that for a moment, then shrugs like he’s conceding the point. 

Dean grins and lets his voice get dark. “Please, Sam? Just one time? I’ve never gotten to see you come. The first time I was dying from tentacle poisoning, and after that, well. You did blind me, so I guess you kind of owe me this.”

On perhaps their most important mission since closing down Hell (and, Dean might argue, more important than that), they discover that there is not a single mirror room in the entire Men of Letter’s bunker. For a hideout full of supernatural knowledge and a kinky sex dungeon, Dean is honestly a little disappointed in the old nerds.

Sam saves the day with a quick Google search and finds a by-the-hour motel only a few hours away that boasts their in-room hot tubs and mirrored ceilings. “For the discerning customer,” according to the website.

“I can’t believe we’re driving all day just to fuck in a skeevy motel,” says Sam as he tosses his duffel in the Impala’s trunk. It still makes the same sound when it lands and settles, so Dean doesn’t need to see it to _see it_.

“Lighten up, Sam,” Dean tells him. “It’ll be like going home. Only with more sex.”

By the time they’re settled into their room for the night, the day is almost over. As soon as the door clicks shut behind them, Dean is undressing and feeling his way to the bed, which he plops down on, legs dropping open as he bounces.

Sam stays by the door and snakes a tentacle all the way across the small room, catching one of Dean’s ankles and wrapping around it several times. Within moments, Dean feels the light tingle of the suckers on his skin and he relaxes into the touch, letting Sam spill into him.

It’s not long before he sees the whole scene laid out in front of him. The sky is the dark blue of late dusk outside the large motel room windows, and Dean laughs. “Hey, Sam? You think maybe next time you should close the blinds before breaking out the tentacles?”

“Shit,” Sam curses, and Dean watches two extra limbs reaching out from behind Sam and taking hold of the curtains, pulling them together.

As soon as the light is shut out, Dean laughs and hides his face in the pillow, even though that has no impact on whether he can see the ridiculous sight in front of him or not. Sam’s eyes are still steady and set on him.

“I forgot!” Dean says, laughing so hard it’s difficult to make words. “I forgot I glow in the dark!”

Sam laughs, too, taking a step forward. “Would you believe I’ve gotten so used to it at this point that it hardly even registers? You’re a really useful nightlight.”

“You were right. I _am_ kind of pretty.” Dean grins and slaps his hand down on the bed next to him. “Now get in here and fuck my radioactive ass.”

Dean watches Sam advance on him from across the room and when he climbs onto the bed, Dean is ready for him, grabbing him with one hand on each shoulder and pushing him down onto the mattress.

That’s when it gets good. Because, sure, his glowing back is a bit of a distraction, but Sam’s vision is focused on the ceiling directly above him, and he’s staring his brother’s reflection in the eyes as Sam’s grin turns wicked and two tendrils begin to smooth their way over Dean’s hip, the tip of one teasing at his hole as the other begins to grip his ass and pull him open.

“Fuck yes,” Dean moans. A slippery digit, like a finger but thicker, presses his prostate and Dean bites his lip as his eyes drop shut. He watches Sam’s face change with pleasure as his brother’s tentacles start to fuck into him, and it’s just about the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

“This is my best idea yet,” Dean brags, nodding as another tentacle begins to try to wiggle its way into him.

“Yeah, this is—good,” Sam admits breathlessly.

“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” Dean tells him. “I mean, even keep blinking to a minimum, we clear?”

Sam nods, then hesitates a moment before bringing his big hands up to cup Dean’s face. He misses at first and it takes some fumbling, which is a nice change up in Dean’s opinion. But just as he’s about to tease Sam about it, Sam says, “Will you…will you keep yours closed?”

For a moment, and only a moment, Dean forgets the pleasure he’s experiencing and he gets taken over by concern for his brother. Dean’s smudgy white vision doesn’t bug him much these days—he’s used to it—but if it’s going to bother Sam, if it’s going to take him out of what they’re doing, Dean can stop it. He feels a little guilty for asking Sam to do this at all. At least until Sam pulls his tentacles out of Dean and reaches down for his dick. Dean figures, if this were really upsetting Sam, he probably wouldn’t have a rock hard boner.

“You ready?” Sam asks.

“Fuck me,” Dean responds. He lifts his hips enough for Sam to position his dick under Dean’s ass and then Dean sinks down until he’s fully seated.

The first thing Sam does in response to the sensation is let his eyes slip shut.

Dean shakes him. “Hey! What did I just tell you about closing your eyes?”

“Sorry,” Sam replies, his eyes popping open so wide that it’s more comical than sexy in the reflection above them. “I forgot.”

“Don’t forget,” Dean instructs. He starts moving then, riding Sam’s dick like he’s at the rodeo and watching the way Sam’s face shifts in response each time Dean fucks himself on his shaft.

Unsurprisingly, this doesn’t go on for very long before Sam’s tentacles decide to get in on the action. They move toward Dean, leaving his view of Sam in the mirror unobscured, so as far as Dean’s concerned, they can do whatever they want.

One wraps around Dean’s dick, undulating around him in time with Dean’s movements on Sam’s. That’s maybe Dean’s favorite thing about having a partner with tentacles, not that he’s ever made a list or anything.

Another tendril works its way up Dean’s body, sliding over his chest, suckers teasing at Dean’s nipples before it gets ambitious and goes for the mouth. By now, Dean is used to the weirdness of it, knows he’ll only make trouble if he tries to resist, so he lets his lips drop open as the limb pushes past his lips.

This doesn’t bother him. In fact, he gets off on it. Dean loves being stuffed full of Sam, spent years dreaming of it before he actually got it, and now he enjoys it in even more ways than he could have imagined.

“Close,” Sam says, struggling to pump his hips up into Dean’s ass as his own tentacles push him down, making sure Sam doesn’t ruin Dean’s show by moving too much. “Fuck, Dean. You feel so good. So tight.”

Dean watches, rapt, as Sam begins to lose himself in his climax. Sam’s pretty pink lips get caught as his brother bites down on them, he makes noises Dean couldn’t describe with a word, but he’s so good to Dean—he keeps his eyes wide open and frozen in place on the mirror above them.

“Look at you,” Dean whispers. “Look how beautiful you are, Sammy. Coming apart like this just for me. Fuck. Fuck, I thought I wouldn’t ever…”

He wishes he didn’t sound so soft, but if Sam tries to call him on it, Dean’s pretty sure he can still kick his ass, blind or not.

Instead of mocking him, Sam pulls gives him an out, pressing a kiss to the side of Dean’s mouth until Dean turns his face enough for their lips to meet. They make out a little, but it blocks some of Dean’s view of Sam, and Dean’s just not having that.

He sits up again, putting his hands flat on Sam’s chest as he bears down on him, fucking himself roughly on Sam’s cock. Sam’s mouth opens on a cry of pleasure, and Dean feels his come warm as it fills his ass.

By now, Dean is mostly immune to Sam’s hydra poison, but it still makes for a rough next day if he swallows any, so the tentacle in Dean’s mouth pulls out before its ink begins to spill and goes back to playing with Dean’s nipple instead of fucking his mouth.

The sweet little teases, combined with the sight of Sam falling apart under him and the feel of Sam’s cock in his ass, the wet, tight friction of the tentacle jerking his cock, are all that Dean can take. He’s careful to hold himself up as he comes, wanting to see Sam through all of it, but after a few moments, the pleasure gets the best of him, and he sinks down bonelessly onto the mattress next to his brother.

For a long time, he and Sam just lay there side by side catching their breath. Dean can still see Sam, feels a little smug at the mind blown expression on his brother’s face.

“I have the best ideas,” Dean tells him, turning onto his side and kissing Sam. “Just admit it.”

“This was not your worst one, I’ll give you that.” Sam grins.

“Glad you think so,” Dean says. “Because I have several more requests.”

Sam sighs. “I had a feeling.”

“So, first, we gotta try this in the car. I gotta drive my baby again.”

“I figured that would be the first thing you asked,” Sam jokes. “So I’m honestly a little flattered I beat that out.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Dean tells him. “Now, I wanna drive to the Grand Canyon. And then I can finally see the damn thing. Before something goes wrong and you get blinded, too.”

Sam laughs. “I will drive us to the Grand Canyon. You can drive on a long, straight road.”

“Come on,” Dean whines, shaking Sam. “There are lots of long, straight roads between here and Arizona. Kansas is flat! I’ll practice like that, and if I’m having trouble adjusting to the off-to-the-side perspective, you can take the wheel back. You know I can drive in any condition. This won’t be such a big deal.”

“It’s not safe.”

“Neither is fucking your brother with hydra poison,” Dean points out. “But you did that to me and now I can’t see.”

“That’s real nice, Dean,” Sam says, voice flat.

“All is fair in love and driving my baby.” Dean pauses to poke his bottom lip out, trying to make puppy eyes before remembering Sam can’t see him right now. He does his best whiny kid voice. “Please.”

Sam laughs softly and pulls Dean on top of him, kissing him hard before letting go of his ankle, taking his vision back. “Fine. You can drive us to the Grand Canyon. But that’s—”

“And then we’re going to Disney!” Dean declares. “Blind guys skip all the lines at Disney.”


End file.
